


Breathless

by Zanbaby



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Aftercare, Asphyxiation, Banter, Choking, Crying, Flirting, Fluff, Gen, Praise Kink, Smut, Submissive Julian Devorak, Teasing, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:07:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22293067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zanbaby/pseuds/Zanbaby
Summary: Sometimes you wonder if Julian’s plan to reach the Hanged Man’s realm had ulterior motives~
Relationships: Julian Devorak/Reader
Comments: 15
Kudos: 230





	Breathless

“Show me where it feels good, baby,” you purr, running your hands up and down Julian’s chest as your nails drag against the skin.

He responds with a wilting sound, his lips trembling with need as he guides your hands up to his neck.

“Here~” he lilts, “I need you here, my darling~”

“I had a feeling,” you smirk, not the least bit surprised that Julian’s weaknesses all seem to end up in this spot.

His Adam’s apple sinks low in his throat and then bobs up again as you press down with your thumb for a moment or two before letting go.

“Little bird,” you tut, “this desire to be hurt all the time… don’t you want something more gentle tonight?”

Though his eyes remain closed, that dogged smile appears, revealing his horsey teeth and warning you that he’s about to say something wry.

“Alright, alright,” you interrupt him before he can have the satisfaction. Whatever awful, embarrassing line he’s going to pull, you don’t want to hear it.

All his smugness leaves him the minute your grip tightens around his neck; pressure closing in slowly but surely until the skin is bulging just a little bit between your fingers.

You hold for a full fifteen seconds, not too tight and not for too long just yet. It’s still enough to have Julian panting softly though, his face a furious red and his eyes a little dewy.

“T-too gentle,” he criticises, donning a smirk despite the state of him.

“ _Too_ bad,” you say with a harmless sneer as you lean in to kiss him between the eyes. “You’ll get choked ‘til your heart’s content, just have some patience and behave yourself, slut.”

There wasn’t an ounce of venom or derogation in your tone, but just that word alone has Julian’s cock straining against his undergarments, and you shaking your head at his predictability only has him getting _more_ aroused.

“Y-yes, my love,” he concedes meekly, “I’ll be a good boy.”

“Yes, you will,” you purr, leaning down to nip his earlobe as you affix one of his long, stalk-like legs at your hip and grind up against him between his hairy thighs.

Julian bites his lip to stifle a squeak and nods obediently; fully prepared to just hand himself over to you and let you do as you wish with him.

You put both hands round his neck again then and close the pressure in a second time, no harder than before but for a little while longer, then again, this time for thirty seconds and with a grip tight enough to leave impressions on his skin that stay for at least ten.

Julian is fully hard already; it never does take much with him, but his cock will be ignored until you see fit to relieve him.

Your focus is solely on this right now, tormenting him with such a steady build up and making his impatience grow. That’s the aim of course, but actually Julian is so hungry for you to touch him in _any_ way at all, that you could stop right now and he’d be satisfied just for that little bit of attention.

“Alright, kitten,” you croon, content with that warm-up and gripping his neck this time like you mean to wring the life out of him.

Julian’s eyes fill with tears and he squawks almost as piercingly as Malak, but his hands don’t even twitch toward your arms to pull them away.

You let go after a count of twenty, but with the increased compression it feels a lot longer to Julian, and he’s gasping for breath during the minute’s reprieve you give him; precum staining the front of his underwear.

“M-more… again,” he huffs, surrendering himself and throwing his arms out to grip the sheets in preparation.

“Harder or longer?” you ask with a devilish smirk.

Julian swallows thickly, the impressions sticking around for a good thirty seconds after their initial creation and the ache lingering just as long.

“Harder,” Julian rasps, assuring that with a firm nod.

You feel how he goes taut like a bowstring the instant your hands are on his skin now; afraid and anticipating and _deliciously_ aroused, all at the same time.

He grits his teeth and cants his head back a little in preparation, and a long, groaning sound escapes him as he breathes out through his nose the more your fingers enclose him and cut off his air.

You can see him edging, and you can’t help it; the temptation is too great, and the satisfaction even greater when, for a split second you let go, see the betrayal on his face at having been denied the full pleasure, and then the shock when you return your grasp just as he attempts to take a breath, preventing him from having it.

You know the minute he bucks like that he’s about to cum from it, so you keep on squeezing, maintaining the pressure as Julian fights for oxygen, and then he fights _you_ ; convulsing in your lap as his eyes roll up into his head and he makes a strangled, yearning sound before — just at the right moment — you release him completely… in more ways than one.

Cum soaks into his underwear; hot and dark at the front of them, and Julian gasps dramatically, coming down panting and wheezing as his eyes roll forward but offer him no sight when they’re full to the brim with tears.

“Good boy,” you hush, assuring him he’s not alone and that he’s safe to feel whatever he’s feeling after such an intense orgasm.

He makes a helpless whimpering sound as he scrubs at his eyes with the back of his wrist and reaches out for you.

“Good boy, I’m here,” you reassure him, “you’re alright.”

You gather him into your lap fully then and cuddle him, rubbing his back to aid his breathing while you pull the blanket over and drape it around his shoulders.

“You’re alright, sweetheart. You did really well,” you continue, kissing his shoulder affectionately as he sags against you, hiccupping.

“S-sorry,” he sniffles, “I-I’m sorry, I’m not crying because I’m h-hurt.”

He seems desperate to assure you of that, but you already know that’s not why he’s overwhelmed, and you gently stroke his hair as you tuck the comforter around him more securely and rock him a little.

“I know, pumpkin. You were so good, you did really well for me, didn’t you?” you praise him in a gentle, loving voice that feels to Julian like being enveloped in warm, steamy water. “My good boy,” you hush, kissing away his tears after leaning back to regard him for a moment.

Julian hiccups a laugh, smiling through the tears as he sinks into the safe, soothing space you’re creating for him.

“Do you need anything, little love?” you ask once his crying has dwindled to soft little sniffles and he’s just resting his cheek on your shoulder as you hold him.

Julian inevitably shakes his head; too insensible to ask for water when it means having to get out of your lap to receive it.

_You’re_ not insensible though, so you take initiative and gently lay him down, disentangling yourself from him and kissing his forehead.

“I’ll be right back, little bird,” you smile, stroking his hair out of his face as you admire him for a moment before disappearing to fetch him a drink.

You might not be able to convince Julian to take a gentle pounding or a night missing masochism, but you can sure as hell have it your way when it comes to aftercare, and to this, Julian wouldn’t protest in the slightest. It’s always worth it.

In fact, the tenderness that comes after the torture may well be his favourite part…

**Author's Note:**

> i'm new in this fandom & i like comments (҂⌣̀_⌣́)


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